


The Go-Between

by KikiTwinTai2



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teachers, Gen, edelweiss family, kugelmugel is an adorable child
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-23 12:06:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20339842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KikiTwinTai2/pseuds/KikiTwinTai2
Summary: With his music teacher father and art teacher mother, Hans is apparently unaware of his parent's status as the cutest couple of the school faculty. When he is tasked with running a message to Roderich, his father is happy to show off his son's music skills to his class. Elizabeta, meanwhile, tells the students that they really aren't as subtle as they think they are.





	The Go-Between

**Author's Note:**

> Did anyone ask for more AusHun? No? Too bad.

Hans stared up at the door in front of him. He had been entrusted with this mission, and he could not fail now, at the last hurdle. After all, he had made it all the way here, travelling all by himself. He had carried his cargo all this way, and now his goal was in reach. 

Or rather, it _wasn’t_. He frowned. It was all very well agreeing to carry his father’s papers to him all the way across the school, and obviously his father needed them, and of course he couldn’t very well turn down an errand from his mother, but he hadn’t really thought this part of it through.

The handle was _right there_, stubbornly out of reach. Hans clutched the papers to his chest, judging the distance. If he jumped, he _might_ be able to reach it. But then the door would swing open, leaving him exposed to the whole room. His face flushed at the prospect, his shyness kicking in.

His gaze roamed down the corridor, and his eyes lit up. There, the door next to the one he stood in front of was ajar. Better yet, the room inside was clearly empty, lit only by what light streamed through the windows along the length of the room. He stepped around it cautiously, seeing that it was indeed deserted. His eyes roamed around, seeing the display of instruments placed carefully around.

He glanced toward the door, then up at the clock. It was halfway through the period, surely no-one was going to come in now, were they? Just to be sure, he waited for another five minutes. After the clock hit the last minute, he set the papers down on a table, then walked over to the first instrument that he found.

Picking it up, he raised the flute to his lips and blew across tentatively, then set it down immediately at the clear sound that rang out. He stood stock still for a moment, scared. After a minute, he relaxed. He could still hear the music coming from the next room, so he must have not been heard.

Gaining confidence, he set the flute to his lips again, finding the right position. He thought for a moment. Then, blowing a few notes to test, he began playing. His small fingers instinctively moved across the smooth metal, pressing the delicate buttons with a light touch.

The melody rang throughout the room, filling the space with it’s clear, high sound. He lost himself in the music, closing his eyes and surrendering himself to his playing.

It was not to be, however. His private concert was interrupted by a voice calling out his name. He stopped playing immediately, hiding the instrument behind his back on instinct and fumbling to place it on the table behind him. When he saw who stood there, however, he slumped, fidgeting.

Roderich stood in the doorway, a look of mingled confusion and amusement on his face.

“What on earth are you doing here?” his father asked, eyebrow raised.

Hans looked up at him guiltily, his eyes straying to the papers lying on the table. Roderich followed his son’s gaze, understanding coming into his eyes. He walked over and picked them up, riffling through the pages. _Oh, thank goodness_. It was the exactly the music sheets he had been missing.

He looked back over to his son, who was standing with his head down, staring at his feet.

Roderich sighed. Walking over to the boy, he ruffled his hair, making the boy look up at him, confused.

“I assume your mother sent you down with these?” he asked gently.

Hans nodded. “Mama said you needed them for your class. Everyone was painting, so she said I needed to take them to you.”

As much as Hans loved spending his afternoons in his mother’s art class in the interval between his elementary class ending and that of his parent’s lessons at the high school, it did mean that he was often tasked with acting as a go-between whenever either of them needed anything.

Roderich frowned slightly in confusion. His son had gone between their respective rooms countless times, it wasn’t like him to deviate from his task.

“Why didn’t you come into the classroom?” he questioned. “You know which one it is, so why are you in the wrong room? Unless…” he looked towards the door, then back at his son. A smile rose to his face.

The boy confirmed his suspicions. “I couldn’t reach, and the door was shut,” Hans muttered, embarrassed. Roderich couldn't help but smile, making his son flush red.

“Why didn’t you just knock, then?” he asked, still smiling. “You normally do.”

Hans flush deepened. He muttered something.

“What was that?”

Hans stared up at his father, his eyes almost glistening. “You’re teaching, and they’re all…big,” he finished lamely.

Roderich couldn’t stop a laugh escaping. It was true, Elizabeta did normally manage to time her son’s errands in such a way that Roderich wouldn’t be teaching when Hans came, so as not to be interrupted.

He stopped laughing when he saw his son’s face red with anger, his huge lavender eyes teary.

“Sorry, _liebling,_” he apologised.

Setting the papers down, he walked over to his son and knelt down to the child’s eye level, taking hold of his arms gently.

“They may be bigger than you, but I assure you they aren’t scary at all.” A thought came to his mind.

“Actually, I have an idea. My students are learning quite a difficult piece at the moment, and they could use some help with it. I happen to know a little someone who plays it extremely well. Would he perhaps like to show them how it’s done?”

Hans looked up at his father in amazement. Seeing Roderich’s look, he glanced towards the flute, still lying where he had placed it hurriedly, then back down at his shoes. He flushed faintly, then looked back up at his father.

“R-really?”

Roderich nodded. “Come on. I’ll introduce you to everyone. Don’t worry, they’re nothing to be scared of.” He held out a hand for the child to take. Hans did so, clutching it tightly. His other hand held the flute in a nervous grip.

Roderich stood, picking up the papers as he did so. They walked out of the room and back into the other, where the students were chatting quietly with the absence of their teacher. Roderich motioned for Hans to stand behind him, then addressed his students.

“Apologies for the interruption, class. There was a slight disruption.” He made no move to resume his seat at his desk, making the students stare in confusion. A few tried to peer around him, sensing the mood.

“Everyone, I would like you meet someone. This is my son, Hans.”

On cue, the boy stepped out from behind his father’s legs. He gazed up at the students, his eyes wide. Roderich pushed him forward gently, allowing the students to see him.

An ‘aww’ ran around the room, mainly from the girls.

“Oh, he’s so cute!"

"I love his hair!"

"How old is he?"

"Oh my gosh, you and Ms Hedervary are _such _a cute couple!"

"Wait, I didn’t know you had a kid!"

"Oh, I knew I’d seen him before! He sits in her art class after the elementary school gets out!"

"Aww, did he come to see you? That’s so sweet!”

Roderich withstood the barrage of comments and questions stoically. A faint blush rose to his pale face at the mention of him and his wife’s apparent status, but he tried to ignore the comment.

Instead, he placed his hands on Hans’ shoulders.

“Hans, why don’t you introduce yourself?” he asked gently. Hans looked up at him timidly (earning another coo from the students), then stood and faced the class.

“Hello. My name is Hans. I’m eight years old. Normally I paint in mama’s class, but papa needed his papers so I took them to him. I like painting and music and baking cakes.” He stopped, blushing, fiddling with the flute in his hands.

Roderich smiled down at him, then turned to the class.

“Now. As you all know, we are practising a very difficult piece today. It has to be said, we were lacking something rather vital’ – he gestured towards the papers, sitting on top of the piano, making the students smile –‘but now I think we can all agree we have been saved. As well as being our saviour, Hans has agreed to show us how this _ought_ to be played. Hans, if you would?” He walked over to the piano and sat down, arranging the much-needed papers on the stand.

Hans nodded, his face serious. He lifted his flute again, running his tongue over his lips lightly to wet them. At a look from his father, he raised the instrument to his lips. Roderich began to play softly.

“_eins, zwei, drei, veir!”_

The music drifted across the classroom, the sounds from the piano melding beautifully with the high, pipingly clear tone of the flute. Hans eyes were closed in concentration, Roderich watching the student’s reaction carefully. His long, pale fingers flew over the keys in time with his son’s soft playing, matching the notes in a perfect duet.

The students watched the display in wonder, a spell falling across the classroom. No other noise was heard except the music, each student barely daring to breathe too loudly in case they disturbed the boy’s concentration. Some even had a hint of tears in their eyes, amazed at how skilled he was for being so young. 

All too soon, it seemed, the song came to its’ end. Hans blew the last lingering note in perfect timing with Roderich’s final glissando, the notes ringing out across the room. He lowered the flute and bowed beautifully, then stood up, opening his eyes slowly.

Seeing the enraptured faces of the students, he blushed fiercely, turning to his father. Roderich nodded to him once, raising an eyebrow.

Hans took the signal and turned back. Holding his flute delicately in both hands, he bowed deeply again.

“Thank you very much for letting me play for you,” he said seriously.

The class erupted in applause, grinning. Hans looked back to Roderich, seeing him flushed with pride. He got up and went to stand behind Hans.

“And there you have it. Chopin as it ought to be played. I think we can all agree that we can put in a little more effort now, hmm?”

The class laughed. “You bet!” came the call from one student. “He’s a genius!”

Hans blushed deeply. “T-thank you,” he stuttered shyly.

At that moment, the bell rang, cutting the class’ enthusiastic praise short.

“Alright, alright! Wait a moment, please. No rushing to pack up,” Roderich called. He leant down to Hans. “Wait in the other room for a moment, please, _liebling_.” Hans nodded.

“Goodbye everyone. It was very nice to meet you all,” he said. He walked out of the room to return the flute.

Once he was sure his son would not overhear, Roderich turned to the class.

“I have to thank you all for that. I do hope you don’t mind my son interrupting the lesson.”

The class shook their heads.

“Are you kidding? He’s so cute!"

"Can you have him here every class? I could listen to him all day!”

"How old was he when you started teaching him?"

Roderich looked faintly abashed. “Well, thank you. He's been playing since he was four. My cousin bought him a flute for his birthday, and I've had difficulty prising him away from it ever since."

“With parents like you and Ms Hedervary, it’d be a given he’d be a prodigy!” a student said, grinning.

Roderich flushed faintly. “Don't overdo it,” he said, slightly warningly. The student sat back, chastised, but a quick glance back at his teacher showed that Roderich was still flushed with pride. Looking up at the clock, he saw that a few minutes had passed since the bell had rung. “Well, I shan’t keep you. Class dismissed!”

The students immediately started gathering their things, chattering loudly. Roderich stood at his desk, waiting until the last student had left.

Once the room was empty, he gathered his own things up, placing them neatly in his briefcase. Taking it, he walked out the classroom, turning the lights off and shutting the door behind him.

He walked into the next room, where Hans was waiting for him patiently. The flute had been returned to its proper place. Roderich glanced at his son.

“Did you clean it?” he asked.

Hans nodded. “I looked around and there was a packet in the cupboard there.” He pointed to a corner of the room, where spare disinfectant wipes for the instruments were kept, as well as cloths to polish them.

“Good boy.” He ruffled Hans' hair, making the boy shake his head.

“Now, let’s go and find your mother, shall we?”

Hans nodded happily. He waited impatiently while Roderich closed up the room, then set off down the corridor.

“No running!” Roderich cautioned. Hans obediently slowed to a more sedate pace. They climbed the stairs back up to the art rooms on the top floor.

The lights were still on along the corridor, many room still lit up with students staying to finish various projects. Hans eagerly ran to his mother’s room, barrelling in with a cry of “Mama!”

Elizabeta turned from where she had been washing paintbrushes, laughing as her son threw his arms around her.

“Hans! Where on earth have you been? I sent you down almost half an hour ago!”

“Papa made me play for his class,” Hans stated, pointing across to where Roderich was standing at the doorway.

“Oh, did he? And were they suitably impressed?” she directed the words to the child, but raised an eyebrow challengingly at Roderich, smiling.

“Yes! I bowed and they all clapped! They said they wanted me to play for them every day!”

“Really?” Elizabeta looked over to Roderich, a question in her eyes.

“I didn’t know he was there,” her husband explained. “The room next door isn’t used during last period, so I went over when I heard a flute and found him playing. Since they leave a lot to be desired in the piece we’re going over at the moment, I had Hans show them how Chopin ought to be played. I must say they were rather taken with him.”

He gave his wife a faint smile of amusement. “By the way, did you know we apparently have something of a reputation amongst the students, dear?” he asked casually.

Elizabeta laughed lightly. “What, that we’re the ‘cutest couple’?” She nodded, giggling at her husband's flush.

“Even better than that, I think I know who was responsible for it” she said. Walking over to the door, she called out along the corridor to a student.

“Feli? Can you come here for moment, please?”

A few seconds later an auburn-haired teen popped his head around the door.

“Si? Did you need me, Ms Hedervary?”

Elizabeta smiled. “Feli, you wouldn’t happen to know anything about me and Roddy’s _status_ among the students, would you?” she asked.

Feliciano blushed. Looking between the two, he couldn’t help a grin spread across his face. “But you’re just so cute together!” he exclaimed. “I’m not the only one!”

He ran over out the door, returning a moment later clutching his brother’s arm. “Lovi, tell them! They’re so cute together, aren’t they?!”

Lovino looked decidedly unimpressed. He glanced up at the two teachers, then frowned at his brother. “Is this what you dragged me out for? You know I have a painting to finish, and another appointment with bo- uh, Mr Carriedo – at four,” he said, just about stopping himself from his usual nickname for the school counsellor.

Elizabeta’s face softened. “How are your sessions going, Lovino?” she asked gently.

Lovino flushed. “Alright. Thank you.” His usual anger was replaced with a more humble tone at the woman’s gentle words.

“Lovi’s being really good! Tonio is a great counsellor!” Feliciano interjected.

A startled noise came from Roderich. “Wait. Carriedo. Tonio. _An_tonio Carriedo?” he muttered, sounding rather aghast.

Feliciano looked confused. “Si? Do you know him? He’s only been at school for a few weeks, so maybe you haven’t met him yet?”

Roderich’s face was slightly flushed. “Uh, no. If it's who I'm thinking of, then we’re acquainted, yes.” He didn’t elaborate on the matter. Elizabeta turned away, hiding her smile behind a hand. She knew exactly how her husband was _acquainted_ with Antonio, and resolved to make sure the two met some time soon.

“Right. That was all I needed you for, Feli. You and Lovi can go back now. Lovino, you don’t need to stay here if you don’t want to. I’m sure Mr Carriedo won’t mind if you’re a few minutes early.”

Lovino nodded swiftly, turning on his heel and walking out of the room. He nodded politely to Roderich, who stepped aside to let him pass. He had taken music briefly before, but for some reason had defied expectations and chosen to take woodwork for his elective instead. Feliciano had kept up with his lessons, however.

Once the brothers had gone, Elizaveta turned to her family.

“Well, there you go. Hans, what do you think? Are mama and papa cute together?” she talked over to Roderich and wound her arms around him.

Hans stared at them both, him in his suit, and her in relaxed trousers and a pretty cardigan. His face screwed up in thought.

“I suppose?” he said eventually. He looked up at his mother in confusion.

Elizabeta squealed and rushed over to him. “Oh, you are just so sweet!”

She knelt down and hugged him tightly. He burrowed into her embrace, then turned his face to his father.

“Papa?”

Hans stared at Roderich pleadingly. Elizabeta held out an arm to her husband. “Well, come on!” she ordered, smiling.

Roderich stiffened. “We are at _school_!” he hissed.

Both mother and child giggled.

“Silly papa. School is out already, who is here to see? Besides,’ she said, smiling with a glint in her eye, ‘as the whole school knows, we _are_ the cutest couple. What could be cuter than parents and their child sharing a hug?”

Roderich sighed. He turned around and took a quick glance along the corridor. Seeing no imminent danger of being interrupted, he walked over to his wife and son, allowing himself to be drawn into the embrace. They stood like that for a long moment, sharing in the simple joy of being a family.

The moment was ruined the faint growling of Hans’ stomach. The three broke apart, Elizabeta smiling at her son.

“Sounds like someone is hungry!”

Hans flushed. Elizabeta laughed and stood up. Walking over to her desk, she retrieved her bag and set it on top of the table, then went over to the cupboard where she kept their coats. Slinging hers on, she held the smaller one out to Hans, who took it and put it on.

“Well, let’s get home, shall we?” she said. Hans nodded and ran over to take her bag, carrying it over to her carefully.

“My little gentleman.” She took it from him, then walked over and laced an arm through Roderich’s, then held out the other hand for Hans.

“Sweetie, don’t forget your bag,” she called. Hans ran to the corner of the classroom where he kept it, then ran over to her.

As Roderich had, she made sure to turn the lights off and shut the door, then they set off. As they passed the room where Feliciano was still painting, utterly absorbed, she called out to him.

“Feli, make sure to tidy up when you’re done, alright? And don’t stay too long. Remember, no later than five.”

Feliciano nodded. “Si! Goodbye, Ms Hedervary, Mr Edelstein. Bye Hans!” The boy nodded to him and waved. “Bye bye, Feliciano.”

The teen smiled. “Hans. I’ve said it like a million times, you can call me Feli, alright?”

Hans nodded tentatively. “Ok. Bye bye Feli.”

Feliciano grinned. “See you!”

“m-hmm!” Hans nodded again, determined.

With that, they made their way out to the car park. Roderich drove, Elizabeta and Hans chatting in the car. Once they reached home, Hans rushed to change out of his uniform, coming down the stairs in soft white sweatpants and a purple jumper.

“Mama, can I watch TV until dinner?” he asked politely.

Elizabeta was already bustling around the kitchen gathering ingredients for the meal. “Of course, darling,” she replied. “Just not too loud, papa still has work to do.”

“Ok!”

He sat staring at the cartoons on the screen, watching the familiar characters. Roderich came down from preparing his lesson plans in his study after a while, dressed similarly casually to his son, and sat down in the armchair.

Seeing his father, Hans got off the coach and climbed into his lap, turning his face into the soft fabric of his sweater. Roderich drew his arms around his son, watching the tv absently. It had changed to the news now, and he listened to it absently. 

Once the meal was ready, Elizabeta called them both in. Roderich stood, carrying Hans over to the table, ignoring the boy’s protests that he was really too big to be carried and was perfectly capable of walking on his own.

Elizabeta smiled at the sight of the two of them. “Hans, if you’re so grown up, can you help me set the table, please?”

Hans wriggled in his father’s arms, making Roderich set him down gently. He carried out the task, then sat at the table. They said a brief grace, then dug in.

“This is really good, Mama! You’re the best cook!” Hans said.

“Thank you, darling.”

“And papa makes the best cakes!” he turned to Roderich. Elizaveta giggled. “That’s true.” Roderich smiled at them both. “I try,” he said modestly.

Hans’ eyes lit up. “Mama, can we make a cake at the weekend? Please? I promise I won’t make a mess or anything.”

Elizaveta turned to her husband. “What does the baker say?” she asked teasingly.

Roderich looked at his son indulgently. “Of course. Anything for my little prodigy.”

Hans beamed at them. “Thank you!”

~~~~~~~

That night, as they were tucking him in, Hans looked at his parents, sitting either side of him on his bed. He looked up at each of them in turn. “I love you papa! And mama! I love you more than anything else in the whole wide world!”

They both pretended to look shocked. “Even art?” Elizaveta asked. Hans nodded. “What about music? Or baking?” Roderich continued. Hans nodded again. “More than anything else _ever,_” he stated firmly.

Roderich looked over to his wife, feigning amazement. “Well, we can’t argue with that, can we dear?”

She shook her head. “No. Absolutely not.” She smiled tenderly at him, her face full of love. “And we love you more than anything else in the whole wide world, too.”

She kissed his cheeks, tickling him gently and making him giggle.

“Ok. Now bed time, darling.”

Hans snuggled down obediently. He closed his eyes, sinking into the warmth from the soft covers. A drowsy smile spread across his face as Elizabeta stroked his hair, starting to sing softly. After a moment, Roderich joined in, humming quietly.

They stayed on either side of him, holding him gently until he was fast asleep, his face calm and contented. Roderich stood up carefully, careful not to wake him. Elizabeta caressed the child’s face once, then pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. Hans gave a tiny smile in his sleep, his arms now loosely clutching his chosen toy for the night.

His parents stood for a moment in his doorway, staring down at him.

“He really is perfect” Elizabeta whispered. “Our perfect little boy.”

Roderich kissed the top of her head. “As are you.”

She poked him in the side. “A boy?” she asked archly. Roderich rolled his eyes lovingly. “Those days are long past,” he said.

“_Long _past” she agreed. They both laughed quietly, remembering her youth and tomboy attitude.

She giggled silently, reaching up to stand on tiptoe, and kissed him deeply. He returned the kiss, winding his arms around her tightly.

They broke apart, suddenly realising that they were still in Hans’ room.

Roderich looked at his wife with a sly glance. “Shall we take this somewhere more decent?” he asked in a low whisper.

Later, they lay twined together, satisfied.

“I must be the luckiest person on earth,” Elizabeta whispered.

“Oh?” Roderich said sleepily.

“I have the most wonderful husband any woman could ever ask for and the most perfect son anyone could ever hope to have. What more could anyone ever want?” she pressed a kiss to him, then snuggled into him.

Roderich smiled. He drew his arms around Elizabeta and held her tightly. “Nothing” he answered. “Nothing whatsoever at all.”


End file.
